The Coldest Case by Martin Walker (mobi reader android txt) 📕

The vines spread out along the hillside, hectare after hectare. First Bruno pointed out the small chateau that was at the heart of the place, where Julien had lived when trying to make a success of it as both vineyard and hotel. Overstretched and in debt, and distracted by his wife’s terminal illness, Julien had been rescued by the Mayor, as well as by Hubert and other local businessmen who had bought out his debt and knuckled down to make the new town vineyard a going concern. Bruno had played a minor role in the saga, sufficient to get him awarded some shares and an appointment to the board of directors. He had used his savings to buy more shares and took great pride in its progress.

They found Julien and Hubert in the big barn that was now the chai where the wine was made and bottled. They were looking worried but cheered up at the sight of their guests, and led them to a modest table that served as a tasting counter. Despite the Mayor’s best efforts, the plan for a vineyard visitors’ centre was still on the drawing board.

After giving a special pat and a bowl of water to Balzac, Hubert poured out small glasses of the previous year’s dry white for each of them, explaining that it was a classic blend of Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon grapes.

‘It’s three euros twenty a bottle but you can have Bruno’s discount, three euros even,’ said Julien. ‘Or we offer a five litre box at fifteen euros, with Bruno’s discount. That’s a good buy.’

‘I could drink a lot of this,’ said Rosalie. ‘It feels very refreshing and has a lot of fruit without being sweet. And I like the name, Demoiselle de la Vézère. Tell me, what’s this dry weather we’ve been having doing to the vines?’

‘It varies,’ Julien replied. ‘The old vines have sunk deep roots and can take water from far below the surface. And a bit of stress makes for better wine. But a lot of the young vines we’ve planted over the past few years are really suffering. Hubert and I have just been talking about it. We certainly need rain, the sooner the better.’

‘What kind of wine do you usually prefer?’ asked Hubert.

‘I’m no expert,’ Alain replied with a smile. ‘Red with meat, white with fish and after the first couple of sips of the stuff they serve us in the air force, I’m damned if I can tell the difference.’

‘Mon Dieu, Bruno, your cousin’s an honest man,’ said Hubert. ‘Not many of our customers would admit that. See what you think of this one, Alain. We call it Seigneur de la Vézère, and it’s our standard red. It’s two years old, half Cabernet Sauvignon with a quarter each of Merlot and Malbec. The same price as the white.’

‘It’s a lot smoother than what they serve at our canteen,’ Alain replied after taking a sip. ‘I like that.’

‘Now try this one, the same blend of grapes but from our older vines and it has spent six months in oak barrels. See if you can taste the difference.’

Rosalie and Alain sipped and nodded. ‘It leaves a lovely taste in my mouth,’ she said.

Alain nodded, adding, ‘I agree, and it has more flavour. How much is that?’

‘Four euros fifty a bottle but you can buy five litres in a box for twenty-five euros and it stays in top form for six weeks, two months if you keep it somewhere cool.’

‘Why is it more expensive?’ Rosalie asked, reading out the name on the bottle, Chevalier de la Vézère.

‘Oak barrels are expensive,’ said Julien. ‘Even the cheapest ones are more than six hundred euros each and the really good ones from old wood with a tight grain are a thousand upwards. What’s more, you don’t want to use them for more than three years, four at most. Then we sell them second-hand to Scotland for their whisky.’

‘Really?’ Rosalie asked. ‘But whisky’s a spirit. Does it change in the barrel?’

‘The colour changes most. Like most spirits, whisky is colourless at first. The colour comes from the wood but you get a slightly different flavour from a sherry barrel from Spain than you do from one of our barrels. And that’s not just the wine, it’s the toasting. Look,’ he said, pointing to a row of barrels. ‘These are marked noisette, but they’re made of oak, not hazel wood. The term comes from the colour of the toasting. All barrels are toasted on the inside. It used to be done over an open flame but these days they use a blow-torch. Noisette is a very light toasting but some heavy wines like a Syrah or a Malbec from Cahors benefit from a much darker toasting.’

‘Well, we’ve learned something today and I think we’ve found the wines we’ll serve at our wedding,’ said Alain. ‘I’m driving, so no more tasting for me, but we’ll buy a box of the white and another of the good red.’

‘When’s the happy day?’ Julien asked.

‘As soon as I get my promotion which should come through within the next month or two,’ Rosalie said. ‘Then I’ll be the same rank as Alain and we can marry and move into married quarters. These wines are for our engagement party. You’ll come, won’t you, Bruno?’

‘Certainly, and we look forward to your being regular customers in the future,’ he said.

‘And I’ll send along a bottle of champagne with him to help you celebrate, with my compliments,’ Hubert added.

‘Good luck with the rain,’ Rosalie said. Bruno told Hubert and Julien they were heading for lunch.

‘We only want something light,’ she added. ‘Bruno made us one of his truffle omelettes for breakfast.’

They ate on the terrace behind the small chateau that was attached to the Domaine, with a view over the swimming pool and tennis courts to the river beyond the gardens and parkland; salade aux gésiers for her, a confit de canard